Cuckoo Clock Of Doom
by Myra109
Summary: Fifteen year old Michelle was a normal teenage girl with an annoying little brother. That is, until her father bought an antique Cuckoo clock, and that's when Michelle's adventure begins. Male!Tara, Female!Michael, AU, T to be safe, may change to K
1. Chapter 1

_Hello. This is written in the format of a Goosebumps book, so some chapters are short, some chapters are in the middle. Some chapters are almost exactly the same as the book, others could not be more different. That is my warning._

 _Prompt from retro mania._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

"Tommy, get back here!"

Fifteen year old Michelle Webster rushed around the corner, running after her four year old brother. Her hair was soaking wet, and one side was buried neatly, pushed flat with the impressions of the bristles of a hair brush, but the other was a tangled rats nest. She wore a bath robe, and water dripped off of her body and onto the carpet.

Her brother giggled as he continued to run, her hair brush held above his head.

Michelle practically tackled Tommy and wrestled the hair brush away.

Tommy smirked before plastering a fake expression of fear across his face.

"MOMMY!"

Their mother dashed into the room, and she saw her teenage daughter pinning her son to the floor with a hairbrush held above Tommy's face.

"Michelle Sarah Webster, get away from your brother this instant!" she shouted.

"But Mom!" Michelle yelled. "He stole my hairbrush and made a mess in my room. He hid my clothes and my make up, and I need to get ready for my date with Mark tonight."

"He only did that because he doesn't want you to go. You always seem to be out of the house, and he wants to spend time with you," Mrs. Webster said, holing Tommy close after Michelle let him up.

Michelle stared at her little brother, who smirked.

Tommy didn't care if she was here or not. He just wanted to embarrass her in front of her boyfriend. Michelle couldn't answer the door in a bath robe. Talk about humiliating. Therefore, he'd hidden almost ever article of clothing she owned (aside from her lounge wear, which was even more embarrassing than a bath robe) and her make up (to make matters worse, Michelle had a pimple the size of a penny on her chin, and without her make up, she couldn't cover it).

You see, Tommy-a scrawny elf with greasy brown hair (probably because he almost never washed it) and lips so plump and red, they looked like a clown's-was Mom's perfect little angel. He could cause no trouble. In their parents' eyes, Michelle was the troublemaker, the liar, the troubled kid, when really, it should be just the opposite.

"Michelle," their mother sighed. "You're tracking water all over the floor. Go dry off, and I want you to cancel that date tonight."

"But Mom-"

"You cannot scare your brother without suffering the consequences. Go."

Michelle glared at her brother before stomping upstairs, making sure to whip her hair and spray her mom and Tommy with a shower of water.

"Michelle, that was unnecessary," Mrs. Webster called, but Michelle had already disappeared upstairs.

* * *

When Michelle returned to the den after dressing in shorts and a tank top and canceling her date with Mark, she found her parents and brother gathered around an antique clock.

It was mostly black, but it was painted with gold, silver, and bronze. There were more knobs and buttons and designs than Michelle could count. It was the kind of thing that small children went nuts over, playing and messing with the buttons and the knobs and such.

The clock itself had a white face and gold Roman numerals. There were secrets doors hidden under the paint designs and a big door in the center of the clock.

"It's an antique Cuckoo clock," Dad exclaimed. "It was a bargain. You know that place across from my work, Anthony's Antiques and Stuff?"

The three others nodded.

"It's been in the shop for fifteen years," Dad said, patting the clock. "Every time I walked past the store, I'd stop and stare at it. I've always loved it. Anthony finally put it on sale."

"Cool," Tommy said.

"It's a nice clock," Michelle said, although that was a lie. The clock was actually pretty ugly, although it was probably a master piece when it was made in… the 1800s, maybe?

"You've been bargaining with Anthony for fifteen years," Mrs. Webster said. "Why would he put it on sale now?"

Mr. Webster's face brightened. "Well, today, I went into the store, and Anthony said he found a tiny flaw in the clock. Something wrong with it."

"Where?" Michelle asked. The clock was ugly, but it seemed to be in working order.

Mr. Webster shrugged. "He wouldn't say. Do you see anything, kids?"

Michelle went through a mental checklist. No chips in the paint, the numbers were correct, the hands were working… she didn't see any flaws.

"I don't see anything wrong with it," Tommy said.

"I don't either," Michelle agreed with her brother (that's a first).

"Neither do I," Mr. Webster agreed. "I didn't know what Anthony was talking about. I told him I wanted to buy the clock anyway. He tried to talk me out of it, but I figured if the flaw is so tiny that we can't even notice it, why not? Anyway, I really do love this thing."

Mrs. Webster cleared her throat. "I don't know, honey. Are you sure it belongs in the den?"

"Where else would we put it?"

"Uh, I don't know- The garage?"

"Oh, I get it," Mr. Webster barked a laugh. "You're joking."

Mrs. Webster shook her head. She wasn't joking, but Michelle and her mother both knew arguing with Dad was pointless, especially when he was so passionate about something.

"I think this clock is just what the den needs, honey," Mr. Webster added.

Michelle focused on the side of the clock, where she noticed a tiny dial. It had a gold face and looked like a miniature clock, but it only had one hand.

Tiny numbers were painted in black along the outside of the dial, ranging from 1800 at the beginning to 2050 at the end. The tiny gold hand pointed to one of the numbers: 2015.

The hand didn't move. Below the clock, a small button had been set into the wood.

"Don't touch that dial, Michelle," Mr. Webster warned. "It tells the current year. The button changes the year."

"That's silly," Mrs. Webster said. "Who forgets what year it is?"

Mr. Webster ignored her. "See, the clock was built in 1800, and the notch moves ever year to show the date."

"Why does it stop at 2050?" Michelle asked, always the curious one.

Her dad shrugged. "Maybe the clock maker thought the year 2050 would never come. Or maybe he thought the clock wouldn't last that long."

"Maybe he thought the world would end in 2049," Tommy suggested.

Dad shrugged. "Anyway, I don't want any of you touching it. I don't want you touching the clock at all. It's old and very, very delicate. So no touching."

"Yes, Dad," Michelle replied.

"Okay!" Tommy exclaimed.

"Look," their mom suddenly said, pointing at the clock. "It's almost six o'clock. Dinner's almost-"

Mrs. Webster was interrupted by a loud gong and one of the many doors on the clock opened. A flurry of yellow and blue hurled itself at Michelle, who cried out in shock and acted on instinct.

She grabbed a lamp off of a nearby table and raised it high, ready to smash the thing to pieces.

* * *

 _Also, remember, Michelle is a thirteen year old girl, so you will see a lot of teenage angst and mood swings. That is basically what a teenage girl is all the time, so you've been warned._

 _Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2._

 ** _Disclaimer: I can barely tell a good ghost story. Do you think I could really write a Goosebumps book? Don't own it._**

* * *

"Woah, Michelle!" Mr. Webster shouted, grabbing Michelle's wrist before she could bring the lamp down. "Its all right."

Michelle watched as the Cuckoo bird flapped its yellow wings and glared at her with its eerie blue eyes. It cawed and squawked before withdrawing itself back into the clock.

"It's a cuckoo clock," Mr. Webster explained. "Pretty neat, huh?"

"Neat?" Michelle scowled. "Did you not just notice how I almost smashed that thing to pieces? I don't typically do that to things I consider _neat_."

Mr. Webster shrugged. "Good point."

"You were scared!" Tommy taunted. "You were scared of a cuckoo clock, you weenie."

Michelle rolled her eyes and shoved Tommy.

"Michelle!" Mrs. Webster snapped. "Don't shove your brother. There's a lot of sharp things he could hurt himself on in here."

"But-"

"Michelle."

Michelle rolled her eyes and turned back to the clock.

"I'm not surprised the bird startled you," Mr. Webster said, seemingly not noticing the fight. "It's from the black forest of Germany. It's supposed to be enchanted."

"Enchanted?" Tommy said, his eyes sparkling.

"Enchanted?" Michelle repeated, although her tone was flat and one of disbelief.

"Legend has it that the man who built this clock had magical powers. He put a spell on the clock. They say if you know the secret, you can use the clock to go back in time."

Mom scoffed. "Did Anthony tell you that? What a great way to sell an old clock. Claim it has magic powers!"

Dad wouldn't let her spoil his fun. "You never know," he said. "It could be true. Why not?"

"I think it's true," Tommy said.

"And I'm fifteen, and I think it's a load of crap," Michelle muttered, still ticked off from having to cancel her date.

"Herman, I wish you wouldn't tell the kids these wild stories," Mom chided. "It's not good for them. And it only encourages Michelle. She's always making things up, telling fibs and impossible stories. I think she gets it from you."

Mr. Webster didn't even look at his wife, too busy examining the clock.. "She's a teenager. It's a phase. She'll grow out of it."

Michelle sputtered. "I don't make things up! I always tell the truth!"

Michelle loved her mother; she always would, but that didn't stop Michelle from wanting to smack her. She was just so oblivious and narrow minded. Tommy: angel. Michelle: devil. That's how Mrs. Webster saw her kids with almost no gray area. It was very irksome.

"Besides, I don't think it hurts the kids to use their imaginations once in a while," Dad said as though Michelle hadn't spoken.

"Imagination is one thing," Mom said. "Lies and fibs are something else."

Michelle fumed. Mom was so unfair to her. The worst part was the expression of victory on Tommy's face. Making her look bad was his mission in life. Michelle wanted to wipe that smirk off his face forever.

"Dinner's almost ready," Mom announced, leaving the den. The cat followed her.

"Michael, Tommy—go wash up."

"I'm not hungry," Michelle muttered before storming up to her room. She was afraid if she looked at her mother for another second, she'd explode. You would be angry, too, if your mother always took your demon of a brother's side over yours.

* * *

An hour later, Michelle walked into the den with her backpack over her shoulder.

"Michelle!" Mr. Webster called from the kitchen. "The den is off limits."

"But Dad, I have to do research on Greek philosophy for my history class," Michelle said, gesturing to her backpack.

"Can't you do that upstairs?"

"I need the Internet."

Mr. Webster sighed, reluctantly.

"Okay. Be careful around the clock."

"I will," Michelle called back as she sat at the computer.

The clock caught her eye, and she looked at it.

The knobs and buttons and the multiple colors were mesmerizing. It may be ugly, but the designs and decorations did seem enchanting in a way. Michelle wondered what the flaw her father had mentioned could possible be. The clock looked fine. Some kind of bump? A missing notch on one of the gears? Maybe a piece of chipped paint?

Michelle glanced back at the door to the den. Their cat Bubba wandered through it, purring. She petted him, and Bubba nudged her hand (the cat always loved Michelle the best).

Her mom and dad were still in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner.

Michelle knew it was a bad idea, but she ignored that feeling and stood up anyway to look at the clock.

Careful not to touch any buttons, she stared at the dial that showed the year. She ran her fingers along a curve of silver at the edge of the clock. She glanced at the little door over the face of the clock. The annoying cuckoo bird sat behind that door, waiting to leap out at the right time.

Michelle didn't want to be surprised by the bird again (this time she might actually destroy it, and then, she'd be in big trouble). She checked the time. Five minutes to eight.

Under the face of the clock she saw another door. A big door. She touched its gold knob.

What's behind this door? She wondered, always the curious one (curiosity killed the cat, a voice in the back of her mind whispered). Maybe the gears of the clock, or a pendulum.

She glanced over her shoulder again. No one was looking. Against her better judgement, she went to check behind the highest door of the clock.

She tugged on the gold knob. The door stuck. She pulled harder.

Stupid decision.

The door flew open.

She let out a scream as an ugly green monster burst out of the clock. It grabbed her and knocked her to the floor.

Michelle wheeled her fist back and was about to smash it into the creature's nose when a voice shouted from behind her.

"Michelle!"

* * *

 _I made Michelle a fighter because Michael wasn't really a fighter in the books, so I thought what would the book be like if Michael (now Michelle) was a bolder person? Besides, why not?_

 _Thanks for reading. Hit the review button._


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm back! Sorry I didn't post yesterday; I had something to take care of, and this slipped through the cracks._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Her mother's scream stopped her, and Michelle looked up to see Tommy in his old Halloween costume.

"Goochy goochy goo!" The monster (just because it was Tommy didn't mean Michelle would call it anything but) giggled and tickled Michelle with its claws.

He rolled on the floor, giggling. "You're so easy to scare!" he shouted. "You should have seen your face when I jumped out of the clock!"

"It's not funny!" Michelle cried. "I bet you wouldn't be laughing if I had actually knocked your teeth out."

"Michelle!" Mrs. Webster scolded.

"What's going on in here?" Dad joined their mother in the doorway, glaring down at his children.

He pointed at the clock. "What's that door doing open? Michelle, I told you to stay away from the clock!"

"ME?" Michelle growled. "It was Tommy!"

"it was not. You're just mad because I scared you," Tommy lied.

"I thought so," Dad said.

"Dad, that's not true! Tommy's the one who—"

"Enough of that, Michelle. I'm sick of hearing you blame Tommy every time you do something wrong. Maybe your mother is right. Maybe I have been encouraging your imagination a little too much."

"That's not fair!" Michelle yelled. "I don't have any imagination! I never make anything up! The last time I made something up was when I said I was happy Tommy was born."

Michelle!" Mrs. Webster yelled.

"I'm going upstairs until someone in this house has their head screwed on straight," Michelle grumbled before heading for the stairs.

Michelle stormed off to her room and slammed the door.

Tommy was the biggest pain in the world, and he never got blamed for anything.

He even ruined Michelle's fifteenth birthday.

* * *

Michelle turned fifteen three days ago. She'd invited her best friends and her boyfriend and some of his friends. It wasn't a party, necessarily. More like a get together. Michelle called it The-Day-Where-She-Gets-Money-And-Attention-And-Tommy-Doesn't. You'd call it that, too, if your brother got every ounce of your parents' attention, and if he asked for something, he got it. February fifth was the one day a year Michelle didn't come second in her parents' books. The one day…

And Tommy the Terror ruined it.

First, he ruined her present.

Michelle's parents had kept her present top secret all day. They hid it in the garage, and her dad guarded the door, so she didn't even have a chance of entering the garage.

Finally, the time came.

Michelle's mother pushed her into the garage, and Michelle squealed (she's not ashamed to admit it) when she saw a wooden guitar leaning against the wall.

"Thank you!" she screamed, hugging her parents.

"I want one!" Tommy whined before picking up the guitar.

"Tommy, get your hands-" Michelle was a second too late.

Tommy strummed one of the cords too hard, and it snapped, hitting his arm with a thwack, and he dropped the guitar, crying.

Michelle would've been considerate if Tommy was hurt, but he wasn't. The spot on his arm was barely red. Tommy wasn't even in pain. Michelle had seen Tommy's fake tears enough times to know when he was faking.

But of course, Michelle's parents fell for the fake water works.

"Tommy, are you okay?" Mrs. Webster asked.

Tommy sniffled and nodded.

"Tommy, you ruined it!" Michelle yelled.

"It's only one string, Michelle. We can fix it," Mr. Webster said.

The parents left the garage to put a bandaid on Tommy's nonexistent boo-boo. When their parents weren't looking, Tommy glanced over his shoulder and gave his sister a smug smirk, confirming Michelle's suspicions.

Michelle's best friends- Ciara, Maggie, and Alea- arrived shortly after that, and Mark and his buddies, Johnny and Kyle, weren't too far behind.

Michelle showed her guitar to her friends, who all frowned.

"What happened to the string?" Ciara asked.

"My brother," Michelle had replied.

Maggie laughed. "Tommy? But he's so sweet."

Michelle sighed. Even her friends didn't believe her.

Later on, Michelle was opening her presents, and Tommy was sitting on the floor. Michelle had begged her mother to keep him out of the house for one day, but her mother had said that Tommy had a right to have fun, too, even though it was Michelle's birthday and not Tommy's.

Michelle ripped open a CD from Mark, and she smiled as she saw her favorite band's new track.

"Aww, her boyfriend gave her love songs," Tommy squealed.

Michelle and Mark froze. They had yet to make their relationship known to their friends yet (they'd only got together the previous week), and they'd been putting it off because they knew Alea had a crush on Mark. Michelle had wanted to tell Alea and let her down easy, but Tommy had just ripped that bandaid off. By the way, ripping a bandaid off fast does not make it any less painful.

Alea opened her mouth, but Mrs. Webster interrupted.

"Michelle, could you come get the cake please?"

Thankful for the escape, Michelle exited the room and grabbed the cake off of the counter while her mother cleaned up the Olive Garden Take Out they'd had for lunch.

Michelle headed for the living room.

She didn't see Tommy stick his foot out into the doorway.

Her ankle connected with his, and she fell in what felt like slow motion before colliding with the ground. Her face hit the cake, covering it in orange icing and a mixture of chocolate and vanilla cake.

One disaster after another. The guitar, Alea, Mark, and now this. There were no candles to blow out, but Michelle made a wish anyway. She wanted to go back in time and do her birthday over again.

A snicker brought Michelle out of her thoughts.

Michelle slowly raised her head.

Her friends were all laughing at her. Mark's friends joined before Mark elbowed them into silence, although they continued to snicker. Mark was the only one not laughing, and he ran forward to help, resulting in a glare from Alea.

Michelle scowled at her giggling brother.

Worst birthday ever, and of course, it was caused by Tommy the Terror…

* * *

 _Same basics as the book. Present, CD, cake, but details were changed._

 _Thanks for reading._


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4, bit of a short chapter but *shrugs*_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

The birthday wasn't even the worst thing Tommy ever did to Michelle. No, no one would believe the worst thing.

Their school was putting on the play Romeo and Juliet. Michelle was super excited and proud of herself when she was cast as Juliet; unfortunately, Mark didn't get to play the role of Romeo, but the guy who did-Michael Barnes- was handsome and wasn't a bad kisser, according to the rumor mill. He wasn't Michelle's type, but it could've been worse.

Today, Michael was coming over to rehearse the suicide scene; Jordan Hancock, who played Friar Lawrence, was also coming, and two extras (they played the people who found Romeo and Juliet).

Michelle climbed the stairs to go put on her costume-an elegant ball gown with a cap and veil that trailed down her back.

A knock sounded as she climbed the stairs, and she heard Tommy answer it as she ducked into her room.

Michelle quickly stripped off her shirt, and she was reaching for her dress when she heard footsteps approaching her door.

"Michelle said to come upstairs," Tommy was saying.

Michelle cursed, and she tried to put the gown on as fast as possible, but the gown was a complicated piece of work, and she hadn't even figured out how to get her arms into it when the door opened.

Michael, Jordan, and the two extras-Paige Sheridan and Luke Caster- got a full view of Michelle standing in her skinny jeans and her bra.

Michael and Jordan-the jerks of the school- began taking pictures with their cell phones while Luke and Paige laughed.

Michelle had begged for them to stop. Those pictures would be all over school tomorrow!

Michelle glared at Tommy as he cackled, and she swore revenge on the demon she called a brother.

* * *

A few days before four of her classmates got a view of her bra, Tommy struck Michelle with something that was almost worse.

Michelle was talking with her friends on the edge of the school yard after the bell had rang. They'd left their bags and purses leaning against the fence, and Michelle spotted Tommy standing over by them. She assumed that Tommy's ride-his friend's mom-had cancelled and needed Michelle to walk him home.

After talking with her friends for a minute, they headed for their bags, and Michelle noticed that Tommy was gone. She frowned, wondering where he had gone off to, but she shrugged it off. The less she has to deal with Tommy, the better.

"Where's my jacket?" Stephanie Bernard demanded.

Stephanie had received one of her boyfriend's sports jackets from him the month before, and she almost never took it off. It had gotten extremely hot that day, so she left it beside her bag when the friends began talking.

"No one leaves until we find it," she snarled before grabbing Alea's bag and rifling through it.

"Hey, what's that in Michelle's backpack?" Lily Waters asked.

Stephanie ripped Michelle's backpack off of her shoulders without any warning and pulled out her balled up jacket.

Stephanie's face went red with anger.

Michelle realized what had happened. Tommy had heard Michelle talk about Stephanie and knew she never took off the jacket, so he placed it in Michelle's backpack as an awful prank.

Everyone except for Maggie, Alea, and Ciara turned their back on Michelle. A few days later, Michelle would lose another friend, Alea, due to Tommy's big mouth at her party.

The next day, rumors circulated her school, labeling Michelle as a thief, a bully, and a pathological liar because she tried to pin her crimes on her brother, all of which were lies.

When Michelle told her mother what Tommy did, her mother didn't believe her. No one ever did.

* * *

 _Well, that's the chapter. See you guys next time._


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps Clock of Doom or any of the Goosebumps books._**

* * *

Michelle stayed in her room that night, thinking hard. Plotting a way to get Tommy in trouble. But nothing came to her. At least, nothing good enough.

She had to be sneaky. Michelle was known for her cleverness and her ability to be very secretive and sneaky when she needed to be, but she was drawing a blank.

Then the clock arrived. A few days later, Tommy did something that gave her an idea.

Tommy couldn't stay away from the cuckoo clock. One afternoon, their dad caught Tommy playing with the clock hands. He didn't get into any real trouble, of course—not sweet little Tommy Webster, who could do no wrong. But their dad did say, "I've got my eye on you, young man. No more playing with the clock."

At last! Michelle thought. At last Dad realizes that Tommy's not a perfect angel.

At last, Michelle found a way to get him into big trouble.

If something went wrong with the clock, Tommy would be blamed for it. So Michelle decided to make sure something did go wrong.

Tommy deserved to get into trouble for the hundreds of terrible things he did to Michelle. Michelle could barely show her face at school because of Tommy.

So what if just once he gets blamed for something she didn't do? Michelle thought. It's only evening the score a little.

That night, after everybody was asleep, the older sister snuck downstairs to the den.

It was almost midnight. Michelle crept up to the clock and waited.

One minute to go.

Thirty seconds.

Ten seconds.

Six, five, four, three, two, one…

The gong sounded.

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

The yellow bird popped out. She grabbed it in mid-cuckoo. It made short, strangling noises.

Michelle twisted its head around, so it faced backwards. It looked really funny that way.

It finished out its twelve cuckoos, facing the wrong way.

Michelle giggled, quietly. When their dad saw it, he'd go ballistic!

The cuckoo slid back into its little window, still facing backwards.

This is going to drive Dad insane! Michelle thought wickedly. He'll be furious at Tommy. He'll explode like a volcano!

Finally, Tommy will know what it feels like to be blamed for something you didn't do.

Michelle crept back upstairs. Not a sound. No one saw her.

For the first time since Tommy was born, Michelle fell asleep a happy girl. There's nothing like revenge.

* * *

Michelle slept late the next morning. She couldn't wait to see Dad blow up at Tommy.

Michelle hurried downstairs, unable to wait to see her father explode at his perfect angel. She checked the den.

The door stood open.

No one there. No sign of trouble yet.

Good, Michelle thought. I haven't missed it.

She made her way into the kitchen, hungry. Mom, Dad, and Tommy sat around the table, piled with empty breakfast dishes.

As soon as they saw her, their faces lit up.

"Happy Birthday!" they cried all at once.

"Very funny," Michelle snapped, still angry about her parents' treatment of her the night the clock arrived, opening a cabinet. "Is there any more cereal left?"

"Cereal!" Mom said. "Don't you want something special, like pancakes?"

Michelle scratched her head. "Well, sure. Pancakes would be great."

This was a little strange. Usually if Michelle woke up late, her mom told her she had to fix her own breakfast. And why should Michelle want something special, anyway? What was the occasion?

Mom mixed a fresh batch of pancake batter. "Don't go in the garage, Michelle! Whatever you do, don't go in the garage!" She hopped up and down, all excited. Just as if it were Michelle's birthday again.

Weird.

Her dad excused himself, saying, "I've got a few important chores to do," in a strange, jolly way.

Michelle shrugged and tried to eat her breakfast in peace. But after breakfast she passed through the dining room and stopped dead. Somebody had decorated it with crepe paper. One strand

had been torn down.

Weird. Totally weird.

Her dad came into the room, toolbox in hand. He picked up the torn piece of crepe paper and started to tape it back up again.

"Why won't this crepe paper stay up?" he asked.

"Dad," Michelle said. "Why are you covering the dining room with crepe paper?"

Dad smiled. "Because it's your birthday, of course! Every birthday party needs crepe paper. Now, I bet you can't wait to see your present, right?"

Michelle stared at him.

What's going on here? Michelle wondered.

* * *

 _This chapter is a lot like the book, but during most of the past events, it'll start to drift away from the book because the memories will need to be altered to fit a girl and not a boy._

 _Thanks for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Like I said, it's written in the format of a Goosebumps book, so some chapters will be super short, like this one. Next chapter will be longer._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Her mom and dad led her to the garage while Tommy followed. They all acted as if they were really going to give Michelle a birthday present.

Dad opened the garage door.

There it was. The guitar.

All the strings were intact. The guitar was brand new and had yet to be touched by Tommy's grimy, clumsy fingers.

That must be the surprise, Michelle thought. They figured out a way to fix the string somehow. Or maybe they got me another new guitar!

"Do you like it?" Mom asked.

"It's awesome!" Michelle replied.

Tommy said, "Cool bike, 'elle. Mom, I want one of these for my birthday."

Then, he picked it up and strummed one of the cords so hard, it snapped and flicked against his arm. Tommy immediately began to bawl, crying fake tears.

Mom cried, "Tommy! Are you hurt?"

Michelle couldn't believe it. What a nightmare!

It was happening all over again. Exactly as it had happened on her birthday.

What's going on?

"What's wrong, Michelle?" Dad asked. "Don't you like the guitar? I'm sure we can fix the string."

What could she say? She felt sick, stupefied, petrified with confusion and fear.

Suddenly, it dawned on her.

It must have been my wish, she thought. My birthday wish.

After Tommy tripped her and she fell on the cake, she wished she could go back in time and start her birthday all over again.

Somehow her wish came true.

Wow! Michelle thought. This is kind of cool.

"Let's go inside," Mom said. "The party guests will be here soon."

The party?

Oh, no.

Please, no!

Did she have to live through that horrible party again?

* * *

 _A lot like the book, this chapter. Don't worry, as time goes back, the chapters will begin to separate the story line from the original book._

 _Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

_I thought this was going to be longer, but... I miscalculated. This chapter isn't as long as I thought it was, but I hope it's still good._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Answer: yes

Michelle's friends, boyfriend, and his buddies arrived just like last time.

"Mom," Michelle begged as her mother headed for the kitchen. "Please take Tommy away. Shut him up in his room or something!"

"Michelle, why? Your brother wants to have fun, too."

"Mom—please!"

"Oh, Michelle, you're being silly. Be nice to Tommy. He won't bother you. He's just a little boy."

Mom left the room, and Michelle cursed.

* * *

Michelle showed her guitar to her friends, who all frowned.

"What happened to the string?" Ciara asked.

Michelle shrugged. The girls didn't believe her the first time. No point in wasting her breath.

* * *

Michelle ripped open a CD from Mark, and she smiled as she saw her favorite band's new track before the smile dropped when she remembered what happened next.

"Aww, her boyfriend gave her love songs," Tommy squealed.

Alea opened her mouth, but Mrs. Webster interrupted.

"Michelle, could you come get the cake please?"

Michelle exited the room and grabbed the cake off of the counter while her mother cleaned up the Olive Garden Take Out they'd had for lunch.

Michelle headed for the living room.

She walked slowly, keeping her eyes on the floor. No sign of Tommy.

She passed the doorway. Still no sign of Tommy.

Michelle sighed. She was in the clear.

She didn't see Tommy lunge out from under the table and grab her ankle.

Michelle once again found herself falling in what felt like slow motion before colliding with the ground. Her face hit the cake, covering it in orange icing and a mixture of chocolate and vanilla cake.

Laughter.

Apparently, the awful party disaster was doomed to happen.

At least it was over now. The wish had been granted. Michelle could get on with her life, counting the days until college and moving out and away from Tommy…

Right?

* * *

 _Right?_

 _Ha, you should've known Michelle wouldn't be that lucky._

 _Thanks for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8

_I'M BACK!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

There was no escaping the disaster the party had been, it seemed.

Michelle shut her eyes and fell asleep. But in her dreams, all night long, she saw scenes from her horrible birthday party. The nightmare party became a real nightmare.

There was Tommy, telling everyone Mark and Michelle loved each other. There was Michelle's friends and Mark's buddies laughing in her face.

She tripped and fell on top of the cake, over and over again.

Michelle tossed and turned. Each dream was scarier than the last. Soon her friends looked like horrible monsters. And Tommy was the most horrible of all. His features melted into a blur as he laughed and laughed at his sister.

Wake up, Michelle thought. Wake up!

She dragged herself out of the nightmare world, sitting up in bed, in a cold sweat.

The room was still dark. She glanced at the clock.

Three o'clock in the morning.

I can't sleep, she thought miserably. I can't calm down. I've got to tell Mom and Dad what happened. Maybe they can help. Maybe they can make me feel better. Something.

She climbed out of bed and hurried down the dark hall to their room. Their door was open a crack.

Michelle pushed it open.

"Mom? Dad? Are you awake?"

Dad rolled over and grunted, "Huh?"

Michelle shook her mom's shoulder. "Mom?"

Mom stirred. "What is it, Michelle?" she whispered. She sat up and grabbed the clock radio. In the clock's dim blue glow Michelle saw her squint, trying to read the time.

"It's three o'clock!" she cried.

Dad snorted and sat up suddenly. "Huh? What?"

"Mom, you've got to listen to me!" Michelle whispered. "Something creepy happened today. Didn't you notice it?"

"Michelle, what is this—"

"My birthday," she explained. "Tommy ruined my birthday, and I wished I could have it all over again. I wanted to make it better. But I never thought the wish would come true! Then, today, it was my birthday again! And everything happened exactly the same. It was horrible!"

Dad rubbed his eyes. "That you, Michelle?"

Mom patted him. "Go back to sleep, dear. Michelle's just had a bad dream."

"No, Mom," Michelle cried, desperately. "It wasn't a dream. It was real! My birthday happened twice! You were there, both times. Don't you understand?"

"Listen, Michelle," Mom began. There was impatience in her voice. "I know you're excited about your birthday, but it's two days away. Only two days to go—then it will be your birthday at last! Okay? So go back to bed now and get some sleep."

Mrs. Webster kissed her daughter good night. "Only two days till your birthday. Sweet dreams."

* * *

 _That's it for now. This story will usually be updated on Mondays. Most of the time, there will be more than one chapter posted on Mondays. Sometimes it'll only one, but it depends on the week._


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9 has arrived._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Michelle staggered back to bed, her head spinning.

Two days until her birthday?

Hadn't she just lived through her birthday—twice?

Michelle switched on the reading lamp and stared at the date on her alarm clock. February third, it said.

Her birthday is February fifth. Her birthday was two days away.

Could it be true? Was time going backwards?

No, Michelle thought. I must be going nuts.

The fifteen year old shook her head hard. She slapped herself a few times. Going back in time. Michelle laughed at the idea.

It's impossible, Michelle thought. Get a hold of yourself, Michelle.

All she did was wish to celebrate her birthday over again—once.

She most certainly didn't wish to repeat her fifteenth birthday for the rest of her life!

But if that's what's happening, why is it now two days before my birthday? Why isn't it just the night before? Michelle thought, puzzled.

She almost felt like a scientist, trying to figure this whole thing out. The difference was… she was potentially in danger and possibly had a time limit. She wasn't entirely sure how this whole thing worked yet.

Maybe time really is going backwards, Michelle thought. Maybe this has nothing to do with my wish.

She paused.

But, then—why is this happening to me? She added to that train of thought.

She racked her brain.

The clock. Dad's cuckoo clock.

She twisted the cuckoo's head backwards… went to bed… and when she woke up, time had gone backwards.

Could that be it? Did I do this? She thought. Is Dad's clock really magic?

Maybe I shouldn't have turned that stupid bird backwards, Michelle decided. It figures—I try to get Tommy in trouble, and end up getting myself into a horrible mess.

Well, if that is what happened, it's easy enough to fix. It should've been anyway.

She tiptoed out of her room and down the stairs. Her parents had probably fallen back to sleep already, but she didn't want to take any chances.

She definitely didn't want Dad to catch her fooling around with his precious clock.

Her feet hit the cold, bare floor of the foyer, and she crept into the den. She switched on a lamp, wincing at the soft crack the lightning bulb gave as it flickered to life. She glanced around the room, and panic began to swallow her whole.. The cuckoo clock was gone!

* * *

 _That's that. Chapter 11 is when the fanfic begins to separate itself from the book. Thought I'd inform you of that._


	10. Chapter 10

_I know I didn't update Monday, so I wrote a longer chapter for you guys to make up for it._

 _We've got a healthy dose of family fluff, too, so I'm sure some of you will like that._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

"No!" Michelle cried upon realizing the disappearance of the clock.

Had the clock been stolen?

Without the clock, how could she fix everything? How could she turn the bird's head around and make time go forward again?

Michelle began panicking. Why would the clock just up and disappear all of a sudden? The clock weighed three times as much as Michelle and nothing else appeared to have been stolen, so it was unlikely the clock had been taken. Dad had wanted the clock for years; there's no way he would've sold it.

So what had happened?

Time was going backwards. Dad bought the cuckoo clock on the eighth of February, and today was…

The third. Five days before her father bought the cuckoo clock.

The clock was gone. Her parents would think she was lying or crazy or both. Tommy was definitely out; he'd tell everyone she'd gone insane.

What was she going to do?

"Michelle, what are you doing up so late?" her mother mumbled from the doorway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Michelle took a deep breath. "I thought I heard something. Must've been the cat."

"You okay?" she asked. "You look a little pale."

Mrs. Webster crossed the room, and she pressed her hand against Michelle's forehead.

"You do feel warm," she muttered. "Let me get the thermometer."

"I'm not sick," Michelle called after her mother, but her mother had disappeared into the kitchen.

Her mother reappeared a few moments later, and she held the thermometer in front of Michelle's mouth. Michelle reluctantly opened her lips and allowed her mother to place the thermometer on her tongue.

A few moments later, her mother withdrew the device and stared at the small digital screen.

"102.2," she tutted. "You'd better get some rest."

Michelle was confused. Last time Michelle was sick, her mother said lay down and drink water before heading off to work. When Tommy got sick, her parents would consider taking him to the hospital for a cold. Her parents rarely even took her temperature.

Michelle knew her parents had to love her. It was a rule. Parents _had_ to love their children. Sometimes it was incredibly obvious how much they loved their children. Sometimes you had to dig to find that soft spot for your child. Could it be possible her mother cared for Michelle more than Michelle had thought?

"What's wrong?" Tommy yawned as he stepped into the room, rubbing his eyes and wearing a blanket around his shoulders like a cape.

"Nothing, Tommy. Go on back to bed," Mrs. Webster told him.

He noticed the thermometer in her hand and Michelle's pale and flushed face.

"Is Michelle sick?" he asked their mother.

Great, Michelle thought, glumly. Perfect opportunity for Tommy to prank and tease me. I'm vulnerable and he's _Mommy and Daddy's perfect little angel._

Mrs. Webster nodded. "I'm afraid so, Tommy."

Michelle expected Tommy to laugh and say her face was redder than a fire hydrant or simply shrug and walk back upstairs. What she didn't expect was a hug.

Tommy wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled up at her.

"Feel better, Michelle," he chirped. "Night."

"Night," Michelle responded, shocked, as her brother released her and headed for the doorway.

She expected him to glance over his shoulder and smirk, as though to rub it in that he had fooled their mother into believing he was the perfect little brother and Michelle was the monster.

He didn't glance back. He didn't make faces or smirk or smile in a nasty manner. He kept walking.

"Your brother really cares for you," Mrs. Webster murmured. "Maybe you should show how much you care for him, too."

Michelle could only nod.

Was her mother right? Did Tommy the Terror… actually care about her?

Michelle didn't know if she'd ever be able to wrap her head around that.

* * *

 _The moment between Michelle and Tommy is a stepping stone in a much bigger part of the story. You'll have to wait to see what that is, but I thought I should tell you that that part is there for a reason._

 _Bye, everyone!_

 _Total word count: 760_


	11. Chapter 11

_I am so sorry I didn't update on Monday. December is one of the busiest months for me. This weekend, I have volunteer work on Saturday morning; a play with my aunt Saturday afternoon/evening; and a family gathering on Sunday if that schedule tells you anything. I also have a bunch of school work to do. I'm so sorry if my updates are a little all over the place this month._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Michelle should've known what would happen next, but the thing with Tommy really threw her for a loop.

Michelle opened her eyes the following morning. She still felt lethargic and nauseous, but she assumed that it was either the time-going-backwards-thing or even the realization that time was indeed going backwards taking its toll on her. She glanced at the calendar above her bed and beside her window and saw that only two days on February were crossed out. She'd lost another day.

"Michelle!" her mother called as she rapped her knuckles against the bedroom door. "Your classmates will be here soon to practice that play you're in. You best start getting ready."

No. No way…

Way.

Michelle quickly realized that it was the day Michael, Jordan, Paige, and Luke came over to rehearse the suicide scene in _Romeo and Juliet_ and Tommy ensured that they saw Michelle without a shirt on. By the way, Tommy, that is a cruel prank, and if she wasn't his sister and afraid of getting trouble, she would've broken his nose. Girls don't take those kind of pranks lightly.

Anyway, Michelle quickly rejoiced when she realized that she could change what happened.

Couldn't she?

When the knock came, Michelle tried to get her feet to move in the direction of the door to answer it herself, but for some reason, she back pedaled and started ascending the stairs.

No. This wasn't right. Why weren't her feet obeying her mind? Her mind was saying _answer the door_ , and her feet were apparently thinking _nope. We have to go this way, and you don't get a say in the matter._

Michelle walked into her room and locked the door. Amongst the involuntary movement of her feet, she could still change small things. Last time, she hadn't locked the door. She wasn't making that mistake again.

Michelle tried to dress as fast as her body would let her, but it wasn't fast enough.

"Michelle said to come upstairs," Tommy was saying, and she heard multiple sets of feet approaching her door.

At least the door was locked.

The knob turned, and the door opened.

What?

Just like last time, Michael, Jordan, and the two extras-Paige Sheridan and Luke Caster- got a full view of Michelle standing in her skinny jeans and her bra.

Michael and Jordan-the jerks of the school- began taking pictures with their cell phones while Luke and Paige laughed.

"That door was locked!" Michelle snapped at her brother as she tried to finish dressing before anymore photos could be taken.

Tommy shrugged. "Your lock is broken, remember?"

Michelle did remember now. Tommy broke it when he burst through her door while she'd been about to lock it. It broke the lock so badly, their dad almost had to get a new doorknob. He'd managed to fix it the day after Michelle's birthday… which hadn't happened yet.

The cake… the door… the pictures…

Was Michelle really powerless to change anything?

* * *

She got her answer a week… before.

When Michelle woke up after the broken lock incident, she found herself staring at the calendar of January. It was a week before the broken lock incident.

Time was going backwards faster, and Michelle didn't know how to reverse it.

She discovered what that day was, and it took all her will power not to scream in frustration when she realized what would happen that day.

It was the day of the misplaced jacket.

Michelle was talking with her friends on the edge of the school yard after the school bell rang. They'd left their bags and purses leaning against the fence, and Michelle spotted Tommy standing over by them.

That was when she realized what would happen, and she tried to move. She tried to travel across the ground and tell Tommy to buzz off before the Missing Jacket Incident occurred, but Michelle couldn't move her feet. She was immobile, and the thought of the approaching disaster rendered her speechless.

After talking with her friends (well, they did most of the talking), they headed for their bags, and Michelle noticed that Tommy was gone. She wanted to run, to explain, but she couldn't turn around. She couldn't speak. The disaster would happen no matter how much Michelle wanted to prevent it.

"Where's my jacket?" Stephanie Bernard demanded.

"No one leaves until we find it," she snarled before grabbing Alea's bag and rifling through it.

"Hey, what's that in Michelle's backpack?" Lily Waters asked.

Stephanie ripped Michelle's backpack off of her shoulders without any warning and pulled out her balled up jacket.

Stephanie's face went red with anger.

Michelle sighed and said nothing as rumors began to spread across the grounds like a wild fire. Thief. Bully. Liar. And so much more. It was nothing compared to what the following day had been like, but that didn't make it any less torturous.

It was official. Michelle had to suffer through every bad event she'd experienced as time raced backwards, and she couldn't change a thing.

* * *

 _Hope you enjoyed the chapter. A few more chapters until the biggest part of the story, the part that changes almost everything you knew before. Next chapter takes place when Michelle is fourteen, and then the following chapter is her thirteenth birthday. The turning point will happen around chapter 13 or 14._

 _Thanks for reading!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Sorry I've been MIA for the past few weeks. I've been dealing with some things in my life, which made it harder for me to write, but I'm back now, and I'm hoping to finish this story before my birthday (January 6th!), so I'm going to be working super hard on this story._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Michelle woke up the following day (or was it the previous day or month… or year?), exhausted and in pain.

It's hard to imagine the pain of being deaged. Imagine your bones shrinking over night. Imagine your organs and your muscles changing and all the evolution your body has gone through being dissolved over night. No matter what you see in movies, you notice when you've been deaged or shrunken… and it hurts!

Michelle sat up with a yawn and glanced at the calendar.

That woke her up real quick.

March, 2014.

She had deaged an entire year overnight.

She felt panic course through her body. She felt hot and sweaty, but she was trembling, and her chest felt tight. Her hands were twitching.

Time was speeding up, and if she didn't find a solution soon… she'd cease to exist.

Oh, no.

Michelle swept the blankets off her lap and went to hop out of bed, but she was not used to this body. She remembered this time: she'd been in the middle of a growth spurt, so her legs felt like the bones were breaking and then reforming and then stretching. It'd been the most painful growth spurt she'd ever endured, and now she had to endure it again.

Wait… she felt like she was forgetting something. Today was March 16, 2014; something had happened on this day, but she couldn't remember what it was.

She shrugged and stood. Whatever it was, it was probably bad, and she was powerless to change it, and she might as well get it over with.

Michelle stumbled to her feet and stretched her growing limbs before heading for the door.

She'd just placed her hand on the door knob when the door burst open, slamming her in the nose.

"Happy birthday!" Tommy yelled, smiling and displaying his missing front teeth.

"It's not my birthday," Michelle stated, holding a hand over her burning nose. Warm blood gushed over her fingers.

"I know," the boy said. "I just wanted an excuse to scream."

Right… she remembered now. This was the day Tommy threw open her door, smacked her in the face, and broke her nose. If you looked close enough, you could see that her nose was still crooked at fifteen.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a moment, although he didn't look immensely concerned.

"No!" she yelled, pulling herself to her feet with aid from her nearby dresser. She shoved Tommy to the ground and ran out the door. "Mom!"

"What is it, Michelle?" Mrs. Webster asked without turning away from the kitchen counter where she was preparing breakfast.

"Tommy broke my nose!" she said, making her mother turn around.

"I didn't mean to!" Tommy begged as he entered the room. "How was I supposed to know you were behind the door?"

"You could've knocked!"

"Tommy, what happened to your elbow?" her mother questioned, making Michelle clench her fists in anger. She was gushing blood, and her mother was worried about a small cut on Tommy's elbow? Seriously? That was definitely in the top ten when it came to her mother's bad parenting.

(Don't get Michelle wrong: she loves her parents, but we all have to admit that they aren't always the best parents.)

"Michelle pushed me," he sniffled as he showed her the circular cut on his arm. He must've hit it off Michelle's dresser.

"Michelle, it was an accident when he broke your nose, and you have a right to be angry, but he's still smaller than you. You can't push him like that!" her mother scolded.

"Mom-"

"I don't want to hear another word. Let me put a band aid on Tommy, and we'll take you to the hospital."

Her mother led Tommy away, and Michelle watched as her mother placed a band aid over the cut and placed a loving kiss on Tommy's forehead.

Tommy the Terror had struck again.

* * *

 _Hope you liked the chapter! Bye bye! See you next time!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Here's chapter 13._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Michelle yawned as she awakened, and she immediately glanced at the calendar.

February 5, 2013. Her thirteenth birthday.

"Ellie! Ellie! Ellie!" two year old Tommy squealed as he burst through the door.

"What, Tommy?" Michelle asked, rolling her eyes at the old nickname. Tommy had called her Ellie until… well, the day after today, actually.

"-Appy birthday!" he cheered, presenting a small collection of flowers from behind his back- tulips, her favorite flower.

"Are they going to squirt me with water of something?" Michelle asked, cautiously accepting the flowers.

"No," Tommy answered, confused.

Michelle inspected the flowers for any kind of trick: squirting water, a fake or very real spider, itching powder sprinkled across the powers. She came up empty. They were just flowers. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Thanks," she said, tentatively.

"I love you, Ellie," he chirped, suddenly embracing her.

Michelle waited for the inevitable prank. A sign on her back, paint down her shirt, a kick in the shin if Tommy wasn't feeling particularly creative that day. Nothing came.

Tommy exited the room without a trick, without a prank, without another word.

What was going on here?

* * *

"I hope you like it, Michelle," Steven said as she tore open the paper on his present.

She gasped. "I love it!" she exclaimed as she lifted a pink, sparkly jacket out of the box. It was beautiful, and Michelle had been prepared to wear it every day until she grew out of it.

She never got the chance because Tommy had ruined it the next day.

"It's pretty, Ellie!" Tommy complimented as she tried it on.

"Get lost, squirt," Steven muttered as he placed an arm around Michelle. That was right. He'd been her first crush, and he'd almost been her first boyfriend until… that's funny. She couldn't remember why they didn't work.

Little did Michelle know, she would be getting her answer very soon.

"No," Tommy snapped. "My house, my sister. You _gets_ lost."

"Tommy," Michelle hissed.

"No! Ellie's friend Samantha told me that you two are dating, and you have the nerve to hit on my sister."

Michelle never knew Tommy was so smart. She didn't think two year olds would know what half of that meant.

Despite knowing that Tommy was yelling the truth, the words slipped out of her mouth of their own accord.

"Get lost, Tommy. You're a liar! You always make things up! I don't want you at my party!"

"I'd never lie to you, Ellie!"

"That's another thing. Don't call me Ellie. My name is Michelle. It's not that hard to say."

Why was she saying all of this? Tommy had only been trying to help… but of course, she didn't know that back then.

"Ellie…" Tommy trailed off, his lower lip quivering.

"What did I just say?" Michelle snarled. "Go away, Tommy."

"Yeah," Steven agreed, and Tommy regained some of the fire he'd previously had.

"Ellie, he's using you! He's a big meanie. I don't even know why you like him. He's ugly and dumb, too."

Tommy hadn't meant to say those awful insults. He'd only been trying to protect her from a jerk who would've pushed her around through an entire relationship, but naive thirteen year old Michelle didn't know that.

"No, he's not!"

"I'm leaving," Steven said, standing up. "I'm sorry, Michelle, but we can't date if your brother's going to insult me every time I enter this house."

"No. Steven, we can make this work," Michelle said, chasing Steven to the door, but he'd already shut it behind him.

"Michelle, he's just a boy. Come apologize to your brother," Mrs. Webster urged, although she tried to keep her tone gentle since her daughter had just had her heart broken. "Have some cake and just have fun."

Michelle grabbed the plate of cake from her mother's hands and stormed over to Tommy. She growled, angrily, and smashed the cake in his face, making Tommy wail.

"I hate you!" she screamed.

Why had she said that? Tommy was the thorn in her side, but she didn't hate him. Besides, he'd been so kind, so protective that day. He'd been a good brother. He'd tried to be her hero…

And in return, she'd been the villain, the traitor. What kind of person was she?

"Michelle!" Mrs. Webster shouted. "You are grounded for not one, but two months! Go to your room!"

"Gladly!"

Michelle stormed up the steps and slammed the door, and that's when Michelle could reveal her fifteen year old self without time intervening and doing only what she did the first time around.

The first time, she kicked and screamed and threw things, her first teenage tantrum. This time, she cried.

Tommy had loved her. Tommy had cared for her, been protective. He'd been a good brother before she did that, before she said she hated him.

Michelle remembered now. Tommy had never pranked or tricked or lied to her until the day after her thirteenth birthday. She'd been the cause of his behavior.

Michelle understood now. Tommy smashed her face in the birthday cake every year since she turned thirteen because she smashed the cake in his face. Tommy pranked her to make up for all the hurtful words. Tommy always lied because she accused him of lying. Her parents always took Tommy's side because they remembered the Tommy before her thirteenth birthday, and they also remembered her horrible behavior. They took his side because after Tommy was born, she didn't give them any reason to trust her. She was always putting Tommy down, even before today, and the birthday had been the final straw for her parents and Tommy.

Tommy had become Tommy the Terror on this day, and it was all her fault.

She knew why she'd forgotten about this birthday. She couldn't live with herself and the mistakes she'd made, so she'd blocked it out. She felt like she was going to get sick. She finally knew the truth, and she'd do anything to forget it again, to live in ignorance and denial once more.

I guess the old saying is right: the truth hurts.

* * *

 _And the truth comes out! Tommy wasn't always the bad guy. Thanks for reading!_


	14. Chapter 14

_I'm back!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Michelle had cried herself to sleep, and she opened her eyes to a different day, a different month, a different year.

June 17, 2012.

Michelle sighed and stood up, feeling even more awkward in her twelve year old body than in her thirteen year old version.

Michelle stood up and approached the door. She turned the knob and exited her room; laughter floated up from downstairs, as well as the delicious scent of pancakes.

Michelle smiled as she rushed down the stairs. She may be aging backwards, but most kids forget their problems when pancakes and sugary syrup are involved.

"Morning!" she chirped as she entered the kitchen.

"Morning, Michelle," her dad said as he served Tommy a pancake cut into relatively small pieces.

Michelle sat at her place at the table and immediately took a bite of the fluffy pancakes. Tommy giggled, and a piece of pancake fell out of his lips.

"That's disgusting," Michelle muttered.

Why did she say that? Tommy was barely one; he hadn't exactly been studying the ways of manners and etiquette.

"He's a baby, Michelle," Mrs. Webster said, sternly, as she wiped the syrup from Tommy's chin. "He can't control it."

Michelle only rolled her eyes before turning back to her food.

* * *

Later that day, Michelle sat on the floor watching television while Tommy played a few feet away from her.

"Ellie!" Tommy gurgled.

She barely turned her head at his voice, but she did look when her parents gasped in excitement.

Tommy was walking.

Michelle watched in boredom as Tommy crossed the room with his first steps and stumbled onto her lap.

He pushed himself back to his feet and held out a block, obviously asking her to play with him.

Michelle wanted to go over to Tommy's corner and play with him for hours because Tommy loved her back then, and she'd taken his love for granted. She made a mental note to never do so again.

Unfortunately, the unknown force that gave her no control over her actions had another idea.

She pushed him. She pushed her one year old brother, who had just taken his first steps, to the ground and turned back to the TV.

"Michelle!" her mother scolded as she stood. "I am tired of this behavior. Insulting Tommy, breaking his toys, pushing him! He needs his sister."

"Whatever," Michelle mumbled as she clicked a button on the remote, even though she wanted to hug Tommy and tell him she was sorry over and over again. Michelle didn't expect the guilt that crashed over her repeatedly ever since she found out The Truth, but it was still punching her in the gut, and it only got worse when she shoved Tommy.

Her mother snatched the remote from her hand and powered off the television.

"Hey! I was watching that!"

"Not anymore. Go to your room."

"Why? Because I shoved the brat?"

"Go!"

Michelle didn't need to be told again. She stomped up the stairs and didn't look back.

Michelle cried as soon as she entered the room. The first time, she'd huffed and sat on the bed, not coming out of her room for anything but to use the bathroom and get a drink for three days. She didn't even eat for three days while her anger cooled. This time, she cried.

Why had she been such a jerk? Tommy was a baby. He'd never done anything to her, so why had she acted like he was her worst enemy?

"Make it end!" she yelled. She wondered how her parents couldn't hear her, but chalked it up to the same unknown force that didn't give her control of her actions. "Send me back to the present or at least let me make things right."

Nothing happened. Either the unknown force didn't hear her or didn't care. Probably the second one.

She was twelve now. She had one year until Tommy was gone, and twelve until she was deaged out of existence. As far as she knew, she would deage one year at a time until it sped up, just like it did when it jumped over a year between Stephanie's missing jacket and March of 2014. It was speeding up, and she needed a solution fast.

Michelle sighed and laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She'd have to go to sleep, deage another year. She wouldn't be able to find a solution while confined to her room. Once she woke up, she'd figure something out.

She would get back to the present and make things right with Tommy. That was a promise.

With that thought, Michelle drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 _Michelle is a little distracted with swallowing The Truth about her and Tommy, but once Tommy is deaged out of existence, it'll become all about finding a solution to the time going backwards situation._

 _See you next time!_


	15. Chapter 15

_Hello, everyone!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Michelle awoke to a cold house.

She glanced at the calendar:

January 2, 2011. That was one of the coldest months/years she remembered, so that explained the frigid temperatures in the house.

Michelle dressed herself in a long sleeved shirt, jeans, a hoodie, and knee length socks before descending the stairs and finding her parents shivering in front of the fire place, which contained a nice, warm blaze.

"It is s-so co-cold," Michelle stammered, her teeth chattering, as she rounded the couch.

Oh, gosh.

"Hey, Mi-Michelle," her mother smiled as she ran her hand over her protruding stomach.

Her mom was pregnant, and Tommy's birthday was… oh.

As if on cue, her mother cried out, her hand going from a loving cradle to a pained grip on her belly.

"Sarah!" her father gasped as he placed a hand on her back.

"The baby… it's coming," Mrs. Webster stated through gritted teeth.

"Michelle, grab the keys and start the car," Mr. Webster ordered as he helped his wife stand.

Michelle didn't need to be told twice. The keys were in her hand before her father finished the sentence, and she was out the door before her parents were out of the living room.

Michelle jammed the key into the ignition in the car and twisted it, listening as the vehicle rumbled before the steady hum of the engine took over. She opened the passenger side door and watched as her father practically lifted her mother into the car before she hopped in the back seat.

Michelle felt like she was living this for the first time. Unlike all the other times, where she felt this nagging sense of extreme de ja vu, this time she could easily forget that she'd lived this once before. Maybe it was the energy racing through her veins, the adrenaline. Maybe it was the distressed cries of her mother that distracted her.

"It's coming!" Mrs. Webster yelled as sweat poured down her face. "Hurry!"

"I am!"

As though they jinxed it, the car stuttered to a halt, and the hum of the engine disappeared.

"What happened?" her father asked.

"You jinxed it!" Michelle stressed as her mother let out another cry.

"Michelle, call 911," her father snapped.

Michelle withdrew her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the number.

"911 operator, what is your emergency?"

"Yes, my mother went into labor."

"Okay, tell her to-"

The operator's voice abruptly shut off, and Michelle withdrew her phone from her ear.

"My phone's dead," she yelped.

"What? We left ours at the house!" her dad said. "Oh, gosh. Oh, gosh. Get help!"

"Where? We're in the middle of nowhere!" Michelle pointed out, gesturing to the back road and the surroundings. There wasn't a car or house in sight.

"They have to send an ambulance, right? Even if my phone died?" Michelle asked.

"They will, but they'll never get here in time," her mother choked out. "The baby is coming now."

"Michelle, take off your jacket," her dad yelled as he positioned his wife. "Honey, you're going to have to push."

"You're not a doctor," Michelle said.

"Do you have a better idea?"

Michelle shut up as her mother howled. Michelle squeezed her eyes shut until crying met her ears, and she opened her eyes to see a tiny baby boy, covering in blood and red in the face, but still adorable.

Her dad handed her the baby, and Michelle took the baby in her arms, wrapping him in the blanket and stared at his beautiful face. He was amazing. She'd never thought of her brother as cute before, but that was the only word that came to mind now.

Until he started turning blue.

"Daddy!" Michelle yelled, distressed.

"Michelle, you took that baby sitting class. Don't they have to teach you CPR on a baby?" her father asked as her mother went into panic mode. That's what Michelle loved about her father. Always calm in the face of a crisis.

Michelle nodded and began to perform CPR on the baby in her arms. She tried to forget it was her little brother, but she couldn't. All that filled her mind was… don't take him. Don't take my baby brother… as panic seized her like it never had before. She was afraid _she_ may be unable to breathe if the baby died.

But wait… Tommy didn't die. He was alive in the present. She barely remembered this. All she remembered about today was panic and an hazy, adrenaline clouded memory of holding the baby immediately after it was born. She barely remembered this.

Michelle breathed into Tommy's mouth and sighed in relief when Tommy began to cry once more. His blue skin returned to its normal color, and Michelle started crying in relief.

She could hear the ambulance in the distance, and she looked at her parents.

"Tommy. That's what we should name him," Michelle said. She remembered that. She'd blurted the name out because the name just felt right for the little boy in her arms.

"I think it's perfect," her mother agreed.

And that's when Michelle figure out another truth.

Tommy had nearly died in her arms. She'd already felt so connected to Tommy, and minutes after that connection was established, Tommy had nearly died.

If you don't get too close, you can't get hurt, and Michelle would never have to feel the shattering of her heart ever again, the panic that beat her with all of its strength. She pushed Tommy away all those years because she was afraid of that feeling.

Michelle wasn't sure how much more of The Truth she could take.

* * *

 _I honestly don't know where this came from. It was probably inspired by the episode of Baby daddy that came on the TV right before where one of the characters had to deliver his girlfriend's baby, and I wanted to give an explanation for Michelle's actions towards Tommy. Nothing excuses Tommy's actions towards Michelle in earlier chapters and nothing excuses Michelle's actions towards Tommy in recent chapters, but I hope you can understand their reasons more now than in the beginning of the story._

 _See you next time!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Here's chapter 16._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Michelle yawned as she sat up. She felt even more sore and exhausted than before. The deaging thing was painful, but it had never been bordering on the kind of soreness that was excruciating. Her back ached, and her stomach was cramping; her ribs burned every time she breathed, and her hips and chest felt like they'd been hit repeatedly. Her legs were so sore, they were weak, and she wondered if they would support her weight when she stood. Basically the pain of a period times three and the pain of a growth spurt times five put together, plus the achy feeling you get when you have the flu or food poisoning. Basically, she felt really sore and really sick.

Michelle glanced at the calendar above her bed, and her heart skipped a beat.

February 5th, 2009. Her ninth birthday.

"No," she muttered. "No, no, no!" she murmured, her voice rising in volume with each exclamation.

Michelle shot to her feet and ran to the full body mirror in the corner.

Her hair was a short, pale blonde ponytail that barely touched the bottom of her neck (this had been a few years before her hair darkened almost over night). She was the color of snow and bony as a scarecrow. Her chest was flat, and her hips were nonexistent. Freckles danced across her nose (more than she'd had at age fifteen), and she wore matching blue pajamas- sky blue pants with clouds on them and a button up shirt with the same pattern. Her bare feet touched the cold floor, and she was barely four feet (she was very short before a moderate growth spurt at age twelve and a huge one at fourteen). She was, well, nine.

"No," she whispered as another horrible conclusion dawned on her, and she sprinted into the hall.

"Tommy!" she called as she dashed into what was supposed to be her brother's room, but she came face to face with an office.

Tommy was gone. She was nine years old and running out of time.

She'd gone from deaging days over night to deaging a week to deaging a year. Now, she'd deaged not one, but two years over night. The process was speeding up. Tommy was gone and soon, she would be, too, if she didn't find a solution.

Michelle returned to her room and stared around the bedroom, soaking in the childish decorations, the old toys she hadn't seen in years, the relatively clean status of the room (untouched by her little brother's messy fingers). In her mind, it had been six years since she was nine. She barely recognized _herself_ , much less her room. They barely kept any pictures from when she was nine. In most pictures, she was really young (seven or younger) or the photograph had been taken after Tommy was born. There was a pretty big gap, and she hadn't seen a photo of her nine year old self since she found a memorabilia box when she was thirteen.

Michelle collapsed onto her bed. It was all too much at once. She didn't know how she was handling it this well. If she wasn't so determined to return to the present, she would've gone crazy by now. Thankfully, her determination was overpowering the overwhelming information her brain had had to take in in such little time.

The door suddenly burst open, making Michelle jump.

"Happy birthday, Michelle!" her parents cheered, and Michelle smiled.

"Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad."

Her mother blinked. "Did you just call us Mom and Dad?"

Michelle froze. What…

Oh, right. She'd called her parents Mommy and Daddy until age ten. Calling them Mom and Dad must've thrown them for a loop.

"I thought I'd give it a try. I like Mommy better, though," Michelle said, trying not to appear startled by her high pitched voice.

Her mom smiled. "Me, too. I don't want you to ever grow up. Ever."

Michelle smiled, but she didn't answer. Nine year old her probably would've said _me neither_ , but she didn't want to lie to her mom. At least the unknown force of time gave her that much.

* * *

"What was your favorite present?" her friend Suzy asked through a mouthful of cake.

"The mp3 player. Definitely," Michelle said. "Thanks for getting it for me. My parents would've never done that."

Suzy smiled. "Your welcome."

Michelle glanced at the clock. 2 pm. Six hours until her parents put her to bed and she woke up to another day, another year. She wasn't any closer to finding a solution. She glanced at Suzy. It was a long shot, but she needed advice.

"Suzy, hypothetically-"

"What does hypothetically mean?" Suzy asked.

"It means something that is possible in a certain event, like a science experiment. So if time started going backwards- so you went to sleep today, woke up and it was yesterday, went to sleep, woke up again and it was January, woke up again and it was last year, and so on- and you didn't know why, what would you do?"

Suzy blinked. "Well… I would retrace my steps on the day time started going backwards. See what I did?"

"And see what factors were different than a typical day. Thanks, Suzy!"

Suzy shrugged. "Your welcome."

* * *

Michelle sat in bed that night, and she drifted off far too quickly for her liking.

When she awakened again, it was still dark. It was three AM on February 5th, 2007. She was seven now and didn't have much longer. Unless time sped up again, she had three to four tries before she ceased to exist.

 _"I would retrace my steps on the day time started going backwards. See what I did?"_

 _"And see what factors were different than a typical day. Thanks, Suzy!"_

What had been different about the day time went backwards? They received the cuckoo clock. That was what had been different, but how had the clock caused this?

Oh.

 _Cuckoo! Cuckoo!_

 _The yellow bird popped out. She grabbed it in mid-cuckoo. It made short, strangling noises._

 _Michelle twisted its head around, so it faced backwards. It looked really funny that way._

 _It finished out its twelve cuckoos, facing the wrong way._

The bird's head was backwards. She'd almost forgotten. After learning The Truth, her brain was frazzled.

But Dad hadn't bought to Cuckoo Clock yet, so what was she going to-

 _"It's an antique Cuckoo clock," Dad exclaimed. "It was a bargain. You know that place across from my work, Anthony's Antiques and Stuff?"_

 _The three other nodded._

 _"It's been in the shop for fifteen years," Dad said, patting the clock. "Every time I walked past the store, I'd stop and stare at it. I've always loved it. Anthony finally put it on sale."_

Anthony's store. Of course.

* * *

 _I know Michelle figured the clock out in an earlier chapter, but with all the excitement, she forgot about it until now._

 _See you next time!_


	17. Chapter 17

_Here's chapter 17. There's only three more chapters after this!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

"Happy birthday, Michelle!" her father yelled as her parents opened the door later that morning.

"Thank you, Mommy! Thank you, Daddy!" Michelle squealed (man, her voice was high at seven. It sounded like tires squealing on smooth pavement) as she examined her much younger parents.

They looked the same, just younger. Her mother had the same blonde locks, and her father had the same chestnut brown hair, but both of them lacked silver strands in their hair. They both had the same pale skin, but both were wrinkle free. Her mother no longer bore the fat of having Tommy (she'd managed to lose the baby weight after Michelle, and she vowed to lose the weight again after having Tommy, but four years later, that had yet to happen). Instead of her wire rimmed spectacles, she wore black rimmed, square ones. Her father still had laugh lines around his eyes (around the time Michelle turned twelve or thirteen, stress caused those laugh lines to turn into nothing but wrinkles).

"I can't believe our little girl's turning seven years old," her mother said with a lighter voice than in the future. "Ready for your special birthday breakfast?"

"You bet!" Michelle exclaimed as she stood up from her bed.

Her eyes glanced into what should've been Tommy's room but was now an office as they passed, and she became filled with sadness. If her parents weren't facing away from her, they surely would've picked up on the sudden change in mood.

I'll get you back, Tommy, she mentally whispered. I promise.

* * *

Michelle watched as her parents disappeared into the kitchen to get away from the seven annoying kids in the dining room.

"Lucy," she hissed to her best friend at the time. "Can you cover for me? I have to go somewhere, and I don't want my parents to know I'm gone."

"What do I say if they ask?" Lucy asked, looking rather comical with blue frosting surrounding her lips.

"Tell them I'm in the bathroom. Everyone knows I have a tiny bladder; I use the bathroom multiple times in twenty minutes, so as long as I'm not gone for more than half an hour, they won't question it."

Lucy nodded. "Okay."

"Thank you, Lucy. You're the best friend in the world!" Michelle said as she grabbed her jacket and bolted out the door.

* * *

Michelle received a lot of weird looks as she took the bus to the station closest to Anthony's and even more weird looks as she dashed through the streets towards the Antique Shop.

"Hey, kid!" A man in a black trench coat called. "Do you have the time?"

"Um," Michelle said. "No. Around noon. Sorry, but I really have to go," she said before continuing to run. She was in such a rush that she didn't notice that the stranger continued to watch her as she sprinted towards the shop.

"No!" Michelle wailed as she arrived at the front door, which was labeled with a **Closed for Vacation. Be Back Soon** sign.

Of course, the one week Anthony closes the shop. He only goes on vacation twice a year: Christmas and one other random week, and apparently, this year it happened to be the week of Michelle's birthday.

"No!" she shouted, kicking the door.

She stared at the sign for another minute or two before turning to go home, only to yelp as the stranger in the trench coat blocked her path.

"You're running out of time, Michelle," the man hissed. Michelle blinked once, and he was several yards down the street. Either the man could teleport or he was ridiculously- _impossibly_ \- fast.

"Wait! Sir!" Michelle yelled, bewildered, but the stranger ignored her. Michelle went to run after him, but before she could take a step, hands grabbed her from behind, causing her to scream in surprise.

"Michelle!" A voice yelled, and Michelle turned around to see her mother gazing at her in disapproval.

"Thanks a lot, Lucy," Michelle muttered.

"Lucy didn't tell me. Gina told me you left, and I've been searching everywhere for you," her mother said.

Goody Two Shoes Gina. Should've seen that coming.

"What are you doing here?" her mother asked.

"The truth is… Dad's birthday is coming up, and I wanted to talk to Anthony about him putting that clock on sale- the one Dad's been obsessed with since before I was born. I should've told you, but Mom, you're not the best liar, and if Dad asks where we went, the plan would fall apart. I came here to talk to Anthony myself, and then if he agreed, all we would have to do is buy it, hide it, and forget about it until Dad's birthday, but according to the sign, he's on vacation," Michelle lied.

Wow. She didn't give herself enough credit. She was a good liar, and really, that should not be something to be proud of, but she didn't care.

"That's very sweet of you," her mother said, "but you could've asked a friend's parent or your aunt or your grandparents to take you. I don't want you coming here alone. I'll let you off the hook because it's your birthday, but don't do it again."

"Thanks, Mom."

"By the way, when did you start calling us Mom and Dad?"

Shoot. She didn't even notice!

"Uh, Lucy calls her parents Mom and Dad. I thought I'd try it out."

Her mother laughed. "Okay, but can we stick to Mommy and Daddy just a bit longer?"

"Okay, Mommy."

"Thank you."

As soon as her mother looked away, Michelle frowned.

First attempt: failed.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! See you next time!_


	18. Chapter 18

_Chapter 18 has arrived. Sorry it took so long._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

When Michelle awakened, it was February 5th, 2005.

She was five years old.

She was running out of time; she needed to find a solution and fast.

Michelle slipped out from under her covers, her hand wrapping around a thin bobby pin, and her feet whispered against the floorboards. She avoided the steps that creaked and groaned underfoot, and she slid her feet across the carpet of the living room before coming to the front door.

Even as a teenager, Michelle had never snuck out of the house. She'd stayed out past curfew, but staying out past ten pm on a school night and sneaking out at three in the morning were two totally different things. It filled her with anxiety, making her palms sweat, and a certain rush of excitement as she flew so close to the sun. She glanced at the stairs in search of her parents' disappointed gazes, wondering if she'd flown too close to the sun and melted her wings, but they were no where in sight.

So far so good…

"Meow."

The small sound made Michelle leap about a foot in the air, and she used her finger tips to keep her from falling into the door and making a racket that would surely wake up her parents.

Michelle turned to see the cat gazing up at her with curious eyes.

"Shh," she murmured. "Don't wake Mom and Dad."

The cat stared at her for another moment before he seemed to lose interest and slinked back over to curl up on a pillow that served as a bed for the cat.

Michelle sighed in relief and unlocked the door, slowly, flinching at the sharp click. She pulled the door open and stepped out into the chilly night, the sneakers she'd rushed to slip on murmuring against the pavement.

Michelle glanced at the clock through the kitchen window. Three AM. She had three hours until her parents woke up and noticed she was gone. More than enough time to turn the bird's head back around and fix everything.

Time to start the long walk to the antique store.

Michelle shivered as she strolled down the sidewalk, wishing she'd grabbed a jacket before leaving. But who could really think about being cold at a time like this? She could deage herself out of existence. If she went to sleep, she'd wake up as a four, three, two, or one year old (there was really no telling). Worst case scenario, she'd go to sleep, deage five years while sleeping, and never wake up.

Few cars passed her at such an early hour, but Michelle pressed herself against a brick wall just to be safe. The shadows offered plenty of cover, and she could see the antique store in the distance.

So close…

Michelle pulled the bobby pin out of her pocket (she'd had a feeling she'd need it. Anthony was never one to leave the store unlocked. Luckily, this was before he got an advanced alarm system. The alarm he had now was broken, so Michelle didn't need to worry about that) and jammed it in the lock. She jimmied it around until an audible click sounded. She pushed the door open…

Michelle tip toed through the store in search of the clock, but it was no where to be found!

Where was that clock?

Michelle clenched her fists in irritation and panic as she flipped through a binder on the main desk that held the cash register; the binder kept track of every antique (it wasn't rare for people to steal the merchandise, so Anthony started keeping a binder to keep track of them when Michelle was around three. Her dad explained that to her when she was eight and asked why Anthony was looking in the binder while they were shopping in the store).

"Clock, clock, clock," she muttered. "Here it is!"

 **Antique Grandfather Clock (believed to be "magical" but remains unproven): currently being repaired.**

Repaired. First he was on vacation, now the clock was out for repairs.

Michelle suddenly felt nauseous and sweaty, like when you run the mile in eighty-five degree heat without so much as a sip of water. Her heart pounded in her chest, like a butterfly was flapping its wings against her rib cage. Anxiety and other emotions Michelle didn't even know the name of overwhelmed her.

She may never get Tommy back. She may deage herself out of existence. It was like the universe wanted this to happen! Vacation, repairs… what's next? Out of the shop for cleaning?

Would there even be a next time? Or would five years trickle back into the top of the hourglass as the clock spun backwards? Would her time be up before she awakened again?

Michelle didn't get the chance to worry anymore because the floor swayed under her feet, and she fell to the ground.

Fainted. At least she'd be getting it over with. Maybe she'd get lucky and wake up as a two or three year old. Or maybe she'd never wake up. It's not like she would know anyway; she never would have existed.

The world faded, and Michelle fell into a blissful darkness that wasn't haunted by her worries, her fears, and her nightmares. For the first time in what felt like ages, Michelle Webster felt a sense of peace...

* * *

 _And a cliffhanger! Well, kind of, I guess._

 _See you guys next time!_


	19. Chapter 19

_One more chapter to go after this one!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

All things considered, Michelle got lucky.

Michelle pried open her eyes, relieved that the awful sickness she'd experienced at age five had vanished, and she gulped before glancing at the calendar on the wall.

2004\. She'd only deaged one year this time.

Michelle rolled out of bed and dashed down the stairs, her tiny feet thudding against the steps.

"Come on, honey. I won't even buy anything. I just want to browse!" Her father was saying as Michelle skidded to a halt outside the kitchen.

"Honey, it's just… the antique store? On Michelle's birthday?" her mother pointed out.

"It's just a pit stop, and then we'll take her to ice cream and the toy store before her party."

"But-"

"Can we?" Michelle begged as she entered the kitchen. "Please, Mommy?"

Her mother laughed. "It's not nice to ease drop, but are you sure you want to go to an antique shop on your birthday?"

Michelle nodded, eagerly. "Uh-huh. Mr. Anthony always gives me a lollipop and let's me play with the old rag dolls while you look around. He's so nice. Please, Mommy?"

Her mother sighed. "All right. If that's what you want…"

"Yay!" Michelle cheered, hugging her mother. "Thank you, Mommy."

"A four year old excited about antiques," her mother muttered before turning to her husband. "She is your daughter…"

* * *

"Hello, Henry, Sarah. Oh, and hello, dearest Michelle," Anthony said in that almost posh accent of his that Michelle loved to hear.

"Hi, Mr. Anthony!" she chirped.

"It's always nice to see you in my store," Anthony stated. "Michelle, why don't you stay here and play with the doll's while your parents have a look around?"

Michelle nodded. "Okay!" she said before pretending to be interested in a box of old rag dolls (they weren't exactly antiques, but Anthony still sold them and kept them around for when parents brought their kids in… you know, to keep the destructive children and their clumsy fingers away from the merchandise).

Anthony and her parents ventured to the back of the store to look at some old tables, and as soon as they were out of ear shot, Michelle shot to her feet and bolted for the clock, which towered over the rest of the items in the store, making it easy to spot.

Michelle scrambled onto the box in front of the clock, using various tables, cedar chests, and boxes as steps to reach the top of the clock.

Five seconds… five seconds until she could fix everything…

"Michelle, no!" her father yelled just as a loud cuckoo sounded, and a bird shot out of the clock, nearly bumping Michelle in the nose.

Michelle hurried to twist the bird's head back around, and as she lowered her arm, her finger knocked off one of the years. 2011 clattered to the floor. Whoops. It probably wasn't important.

The world spiraled around her, and Michelle yelped as she was tossed into… an arm chair?

Michelle glanced at her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace and grinned.

She was fifteen again!

"Michelle, I thought I told you to stay from the clock," her father told her as he stepped into the room.

"Sorry, Dad. Do you know where Tommy is?" Michelle asked.

She'd fixed the situation with the clock. Now it was time to fix things with her little brother.

Her dad frowned. "Who's Tommy?"

Michelle frowned. "What do you mean who's Tom-" Michelle stopped speaking.

Her eyes wandered from her dad's face to the picture on the wall behind him.

Last time Michelle checked, the picture was of her parents standing with her and Tommy. Her mom had a hand on Michelle's shoulder, and her dad would be holding Tommy, who'd only been three at the time, against his side.

The picture was still there, but Tommy wasn't in it.

 _Michelle hurried to twist the bird's head back around, and as she lowered her arm, her finger knocked off one of the years. **2011** clattered to the floor._

2011\. The year Tommy was born.

Oh, no.

"Uh, never mind," Michelle squeaked. "I have to go. A lot of homework to do, you know! Bye!"

Michelle raced out of the room, and her dad turned to the only other living thing in the room, their cat.

"Did that seem weird to you?" Mr. Webster asked the cat, who meowed, as if to agree with him.

* * *

Michelle slammed the door to her room and stared in horror at nothing.

She'd knocked off 2011, preventing Tommy's birth.

As much as Michelle didn't want to risk deaging herself out of existence, she wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing she hadn't saved Tommy.

She was going back for him. _Tonight._

* * *

 _See you next time for the final chapter! Thanks for reading! Bye!_


	20. Chapter 20

_THE LAST CHAPTER!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

Michelle lifted a shaky hand and twisted the bird's head backwards as it cried out as the clock struck midnight.

Michelle opened her eyes, raising her hands to her face and gulped as she saw her tiny, doll like hands.

Time for round two, she thought.

Michelle rolled out of bed and dashed down the stairs, her tiny feet thudding against the steps.

"Come on, honey. I won't even buy anything. I just want to browse!" Her father was saying as Michelle skidded to a halt outside the kitchen.

"Honey, it's just… the antique store? On Michelle's birthday?" her mother pointed out.

"It's just a pit stop, and then we'll take her to ice cream and the toy store before her party."

"But-"

"Can we?" Michelle begged as she entered the kitchen. "Please, Mommy?"

Her mother laughed. "It's not nice to ease drop, but are you sure you want to go to an antique shop on your birthday?"

Michelle nodded, eagerly. "Uh-huh. Mr. Anthony always gives me a lollipop and let's me play with the old rag dolls while you look around. He's so nice. Please, Mommy?"

Her mother sighed. "All right. If that's what you want…"

"Yay!" Michelle cheered, hugging her mother. "Thank you, Mommy."

"A four year old excited about antiques," her mother muttered before turning to her husband. "She is your daughter…"

* * *

"Hello, Henry, Sarah. Oh, and hello, dearest Michelle," Anthony said in that almost posh accent of his that Michelle loved to hear.

"Hi, Mr. Anthony!" she chirped.

"It's always nice to see you in my store," Anthony stated. "Michelle, why don't you stay here and play with the dolls while your parents have a look around?"

Michelle nodded. "Okay!" she said before pretending to be interested in a box of old rag dolls (they weren't exactly antiques, but Anthony still sold them and kept them around for when parents brought their kids in… you know, to keep the destructive children and their clumsy fingers away from the merchandise).

Anthony and her parents ventured to the back of the store to look at some old tables, and as soon as they were out of ear shot, Michelle shot to her feet and bolted for the clock, which towered over the rest of the items in the store, making it easy to spot.

Michelle scrambled onto the box in front of the clock, using various tables, cedar chests, and boxes as steps to reach the top of the clock.

Five seconds… five seconds until she could fix everything…

"Michelle, no!" her father yelled just as a loud cuckoo sounded, and a bird shot out of the clock, nearly bumping Michelle in the nose.

Michelle raised her hand, twisting the bird's head backwards and bringing her arm to her chest instead of lowering it to her side. This time, the year 2011 didn't clatter to the floor.

Michelle blinked, and when she opened her eyes, she was sitting in the arm chair as a fifteen year old.

"Michelle, I thought I told you to stay from the clock," her father told her as he stepped into the room.

"Sorry, Dad. Do you know where Tommy is?" Michelle asked.

She held her breath…

"I think he's upstairs in his room," her dad told her.

"Tommy!" Michelle yelled, bolting up the steps and throwing open the door to Tommy's room.

"Don't you ever knock?" Tommy demanded from where he was sitting on his bed. That seemed ironic coming from him.

Michelle engulfed Tommy in a hug, lifting him off the bed while he yelped in surprise.

"Tommy, I am so sorry about my thirteenth birthday. I was so mean to you, and you were only trying to help. Please forgive me. You're the best little brother ever, and I've been so selfish, and-"

Tommy giggled. "Michelle! It's okay. I'm sorry for me being so mean, too."

Michelle smiled and embraced her brother, grinning even wider as he hugged her back.

She heard someone stiffle a laugh from behind her and a small click and knew that her parents were taking pictures, but she didn't dare turn around and interrupt the moment.

"I love you, Tommy," she murmured.

"I love you, too, Michelle," Tommy said.

And people say there are no happy endings in real life! Obviously, those people haven't met the Webster family…

* * *

 _The End! It's been fun, and there will be more Goosebumps stories in the future, so keep an eye out for those._

 _Thanks for reading! Bye!_


End file.
